


Here Again

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: And Iris loves him so, Angst, Episode: s02e23 The Race of His Life, F/M, Iris' POV, Mentions of pre-canon events learned of in Season 3, Poor Barry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: Iris is there for Barry after Zoom.“Did I get revenge for my dad? Was that justice?” he finally said.“It was what needed to happen. Zoom had to be stopped; you stopped him.” She replied.“But is that enough?” His voice was tired too. He sounded numb now.





	Here Again

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think this counts as canon divergence, but it does kind of require pushing some canon (things after the defeat of Zoom) back a few hours. Basically, this happens after the defeat of Zoom but before the Barry and Iris porch conversation.
> 
> I was missing writing dialogue.

“Hey.” She said sitting down on the sofa next to him. He’d been sitting there for a while now and part of her had wanted to leave him be, give him that space, but she couldn’t hold out any longer. She couldn’t leave him alone any longer. Her dad was upstairs, and the others were still at STAR Labs, sorting things out, maybe also giving Barry some space. They’d decided they’d come back to the house with food later on. 

“Hey,” he replied back to her with a small smile.

“How are you doing?” she asked, taking a look over him. He seemed so tired. Deep in his bones tired.

“I dunno, honestly.”

She nodded at him, giving him a sympathetic smile. She stayed quiet because she wasn’t sure what he needed yet and because it was Barry – typically he talked. If you showed you were going to listen, that you cared enough to ask, he would talk.

“Did I get revenge for my dad? Was that justice?” he finally said.

“It was what needed to happen. Zoom had to be stopped; you stopped him.” She replied.

“But is that enough?” His voice was tired too. He sounded numb now.

“It’s enough for Central City that is now safer for you defeating him.” Was what she decided on replying. It was true, and she didn’t think anything could ever be enough to make up for the loss of your parent – but she didn’t want to say that.

“Which doesn’t include my dad.” He hit out.

“Barry,” she sighed.

He leaned forward then, away from her. She recognised the guilt he carried, she saw it on his face, in the hunched curl of his shoulders, way too often.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She told him sincerely.

“It’s always my fault.” He replied automatically over his shoulder at her.

“No.” She tried to assure him but he talked over her.

“Everything – every bad thing that happens is because of me, because I’m The Flash. My mom, my dad,” his voice breaking he carried on his list of perceived failures. “Eddie, Ronnie, all of it.”

“Barry, stop.” she said holding onto his arm and pulling him back some to face her. “You didn’t kill anybody.”

“I may as well have. And I chose it again, to have my speed!” he looked at her with so much pain, resentment – self-resentment. “My dad didn’t want me to – and maybe he would still be here if I hadn’t been selfish.”

“You are not selfish, Barry Allen.” She told him fiercely. She knew it for fact – a basic fact. One she’d learned early in her life.

“I wanted my speed because I need it, because it’s a part of me and I don’t know who I am without it.” He shrugged helplessly at her.

“Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that it is the only reason you risked your life to get your speed back? Can you honestly say you don’t worry about the people of this city every damn day, that you don’t want to help them?” she tried to reason with him.

He looked down, a frown creasing on his face. He shook his head and exhaled a cry.

“Barry, how many metas have been in this city? And how many of them do what you do – how many of them choose to help? Most of them use their powers for selfish reasons. You see that every day, you see what selfish choices of metas are all the time. That is not you.”

“Iris,” he said brokenly.

“You have saved so many people. You’ve saved me, all of us. Countless lives.” He looked at her then, like he was trying to read something from her. She didn’t know what. “You saved my dad tonight.” She added.

“Who was only targeted because I’m The Flash.” He quickly argued.

“Barry, you can’t take on the responsibility of other people’s choices.“ she argued right back. “Those aren’t yours to carry. You wouldn’t tell my dad to give up being a cop. I’ve been targeted because of his job, but you don’t blame him for that – you blame the people who have tried to harm me, as you should.”

He seemed to be listening to her so she carried on, hoping to make some impact against his grief. “You – The Flash, matters.” She summed up.

He looked at her, his eyes staring into hers. She sat steady for him, for whatever it was he needed to find in her. But he didn’t say anything, so she kept trying to get through to him.

“Your dad didn’t want you to go through that again because he was worried about you, not because he thought it was a selfish choice. You know he was so proud of you being The Flash, of who you are.” She’d watched Henry worry, and she’d watched him in his loss when they thought Barry was maybe gone for good – in their joint loss. She knew how he’d felt about his son.

His eyebrows came together and lowered, furrowed. She saw a tear fall from and run down his cheek. “I miss him. I’d just gotten him back and he’s gone again already.”

“I know, it’s not fair.” She missed him too, and she missed the smile, that smile of completion that Barry had when his dad was around. Henry had always championed not just his son, but her too, and her dad. Even when it was difficult. He’d never resented her and her dad making a family with Barry, and she was so grateful to him for that. He was the best kind of person. Brave, solid, loving. Something good, like Barry.

He heaved a quiet sob, his shoulders shaking and he hung his head. She couldn’t bare it.

“Hey, come here.” She comforted him, wrapping her arms around him as he huddled himself into her, crying on her shoulder. This was better than the anger she thought. This was healthier. She felt her own tears run.

“You should get some rest, Barry.” She quietly said against him.

“I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see –“ he trailed off as she felt another shudder from him.

Iris looked around the room as she pulled back a little from him, still holding onto his arm, keeping connected as she wiped her tears away with her other hand. The fire was on still, it was warm in the living room.

“Can you lie down here?” she asked him. “I know you’re maybe a little tall with those legs of yours but…” she said through a smile with a lighter tone, trailing off at the suggestion. She figured he’d put his head on the armrest or more likely just spread his legs out in front and lean back into the sofa cushions. Instead, he pulled his feet up on side of the armrest, bending his knees and curling his legs to fit in the space, and then he dropped his head onto her thigh. Not quite in her lap but propped against her leg.

She stilled not expecting it and hoped he didn’t notice her tension. She had flashbacks of a night she didn’t really like to think about, the night Nora Allen had been murdered, her husband arrested for the murder and their son had gone to live with his best friend. She and Barry had ended up in a similar position that night. He’d cried with his head in her lap, here in this living room. They were just children but even then, taking care of Barry Allen, making sure he was okay so they could smile and play together again – it was so important. It was natural. Now they were adults, but still best friends – and something else. And Iris still felt that same importance, that same need to comfort her best friend as she had years before. Like it was vital, like there wasn’t even a question of her being with him through this.

She didn’t know if he was thinking about that night too. She wasn’t going to bring it up.

Carefully she put her hand to his hair, running her fingers through it. It was messy, and fluffy, some of it sitting on his forehead. It was soft, a lot of the styling having been worked out throughout the terrible day. She brushed the strands away from his forehead, from his face.

She both heard and felt him let out a deep and long exhale of breath. And then a sniff.

“Iris?” he was so quiet, the ‘s’ of her name catching at the end.

“Yeah?” she whispered back, scared to upset the moment.

“Don’t leave.” He said, near breaking her heart.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bear. I’m right here.” She promised. He turned then, shifting his body inwards, facing her. He propped his head further up on her leg too, settling one hand on her. She went back to stroking through his hair once he’d settled in the new position, trying to show she was there. That he could turn, he could cry, he could yell but she’d still be there. He could walk away and she’d chase him or wait for him to come back, whatever he needed.

“I’m just so sick of losing even when I win, Iris.” He said with another break in his voice.

“I know.” She tried to comfort. He pressed himself against her as he cried, his fingers gripping at her. She kept her hands in his hair and he didn’t ask her to stop, so she didn’t. She sat with him through it. She’d been with him then and she’d be with him now. His eyes were closed. She kept hers open, making sure he was okay and waiting for the others to arrive.

**Author's Note:**

> I had thought about setting this the night Henry dies instead, so it paralleled the night Nora died, but it felt like Barry was too angry and that if this had happened before them locking Barry up, it wouldn't have felt quite right for their relationship. It felt like it would had caused more issues for them. So I'm hoping it works using the timing I chose instead.


End file.
